


Kindling

by virtuevalentine



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Marijuana, Smoking, Swearing, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-14 11:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15387390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtuevalentine/pseuds/virtuevalentine
Summary: A coming-of-age story about a couple of alienated teens as they learn to deal with bullying, go on illegal joyrides, and survive high school in general. Gerard is soft-spoken and shy. Frank is the opposite, loud with no inhibitions. The spark ignites when they meet and they unknowingly help each other face their greatest fears.





	1. Starting Over

****["Always Focused" - Tiny Moving Parts]

-

Gerard had his head pressed against the backseat window. He looked over at his younger brother who had fallen asleep in the seat next to him with his earbuds in, then at his mother's face through the rear view mirror. They had been driving for the past five hours and he was starting to feel restless. He attempted to stretch out his legs against the cramped back of the seat. "We're almost there," his mother said, noticing. They spent the last two days sleeping in cheap motels and eating fast food. He couldn't wait to be done with it.

He tried to guess which house they would have to call home. He spotted a two-story Victorian house painted black up ahead, looking grand and haunted. He hoped that would be it but they kept driving past it. The next neighborhood had rows of smaller houses and looked significantly less impressive. There was nobody out. It seemed deserted.

"This is it," he heard his mother say as they pulled up to the curb. It was a one-story house; the white paint was chipping and the yard was overgrown. "It's not much but it's enough," she said as she pulled open the trunk of their '89 Altima. Gerard opened the door to his brother's side and gently shook him awake. "Mikey, we're here." Mikey groggily rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. Gerard grabbed a box and made his way to the front of the house while his mom struggled to unlock the door, the old knob needing a few wiggles before it unlatched.

The house smelled musty and like old potpourri. The wood floors creaked as he took a few steps down the hall into one of the bedrooms, setting his box down. There were holes on the walls where there used to be nails and questionable stains on the beige carpet left from the previous tenants. He ran his fingers along one side of the wall where he saw a long skid mark that raked across in a black smear, the mark of a large piece of furniture carelessly dragged out of the room. 

"You can paint it any color you want," he heard his mom say from behind him as he spun around. "It's yours now" she said with a small smile, awaiting his approval. Paint would cost money, which they didn't have much of, but he still nodded and returned her smile, reassuringly.

Later that evening he looked himself over in the bathroom mirror, water dripping from his face— his black hair cropped at his neck, the ends curling, bangs coming down almost over his eyes, and light freckles across his nose and cheeks. He grabbed a towel and dabbed at his face. It smelled of musty cardboard, like the boxes where he pulled it from.

Tomorrow would be his first day of school. Sophomore year. He would be coming in in the middle of the school year, having already missed spending one full grade and four months with the kids at this school. People would speculate the worst about why he had to enroll so late. He would be labeled as the troubled new kid. His stomach clenched. He already had a hard enough time fitting in as it was. If his school career in his previous town was any example, he had made only two friends from having lived in the same place for almost sixteen years. He wished he had more time to prepare. To change everything about him. Come up with a whole new identity for himself. He couldn't do that now. Not when he would be haphazardly thrust into a new place with no warning.

He was sure Mikey would have no problem acclimating. He had a knack for being sociable. And now that they were moved in, it would also mark the end of the most time he'd spent with his mom in years. She was usually either busy working or fighting with her boyfriends—she would have a new one every few months. Her breakups went one of two ways: he would hear a loud argument that would end with her throwing the man's belongings out onto the front yard, yelling something along the lines of "Go to hell!" with a slam of the front door, or he would come home to her crying alone in her room, a trail of beer bottles at her wake—he preferred the former.

This last time, she had been dating a man named Harvey. He seemed pleasant enough. He was nice to him and Mikey but he was nicer to Gerard. He even moved in temporarily. Until one evening, while his mom was at work and Mikey was at a friend's, Harvey came up to him and held him from behind. He remembered feeling scared then. He knew it wasn't right. He felt it in his gut. It wasn't until he touched him through his jeans that he shoved him away and ran out of the house. They found him three hours later at a diner.

They moved out of town then. All the way from Illinois to New Jersey. His mom insisted. "We're starting over," she told him. But deep down, he knew things would be the same.


	2. Frank

["No Fun Club" - FIATP]

-

Gerard crashed into someone in the school halls, knocking his phone from his hands. He looked up and was met with a kid his age: short, skinny, jet black hair, and a scowl that made his throat clench. Several students looked over at them and giggled. His apology was caught in his throat when he suddenly felt himself being shoved and he fell to the ground. "Fucking fag," he thought he heard him say as he walked past him down the hall.

In first period, he was disappointed to find the boy was in the same class. He was clad in all black clothes, slumped in his seat in a careless position. He heard the bored drawl of Mr. Brigsby calling out everyone's names for roll call. He learned that the boy's name was Frank. "Looks like we have a new student here," Mr. Brigsby said. He adjusted his glasses as he glanced down at the roll sheet. "Gerald Way."

"It's Gerard," he muttered as he stood.

"Tell us about yourself."

"Um, I'm a sophomore—"

"No shit. We all are," he heard Frank say under his breath.

Gerard ignored him. "I just moved here from Illinois—"

"Why'd you move?" a blond kid with bangs coming over his eyes asked. Bob, was it?

"My mom switched jobs," he lied. He sat down quickly before anyone asked him any more questions.

Gerard glanced at Frank, trying to figure out what his deal with him was. He suddenly turned and they locked eyes. Gerard quickly looked down at his desk, feeling the heat creep up his cheeks. He busied himself with scribbling in his notebook and avoided Frank for the rest of the class.

In gym class, he was second to last picked for dodgeball. A tall boy with broad shoulders groaned as he pointed him out to pick him for his team. His team lost. He was never considered the "athletic type". In fact, almost anything that required hand-eye coordination he wasn't really good at. What he was good at was art. Which was the subject of his next class, the one he was looking forward to the most.

He was relieved to not be forced to introduce himself this time. Instead, the teacher pointed him out and everyone clapped for him. It was the first time all day where he actually felt welcome. He eyed the girl with black pigtails sat next to the teacher's desk. She was the teacher's aid. A senior. As she made her rounds around the tables she stopped next to him, noticing his drawing. "That's great! You an Al Columbia fan? I'm Lindsey by the way," she said. He resisted the urge to cover his drawing with his hand as he nodded. She leaned in. "Can't wait to see more of your work," she said, as she passed him.

It was rare that anyone knew of the same artists he did. He pored over obscure artbooks filled with obscene imagery and vulgar dialogue. His initial shock at the discovery of Columbia's work was followed by feeling unique, as if he was the sole-keeper of a dark secret that nobody else had access to—until now. He saw Lindsey in a newfound light. And he had to resist sneaking glances at her for the rest of the class.

During lunch, he scanned the cafeteria to find a table. But it was so full there were barely any free seats. He spotted one at a table occupied by a group of band kids and approached. "This seat's taken," a blonde girl said curtly, as she dropped her backpack onto the chair. When he turned to leave, he noticed her welcome a girl, who she's clearly never met before, over as she introduced herself with a smile. He weaved around the tables anxiously until he finally found another spot. He quickly sat down with a sigh. When he looked up, he was met with Frank and his stomach sank. He was shoving spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth, not even acknowledging him. Gerard contemplated whether or not he should attempt making conversation with him.

"Hey," he started. "You're Frank, right? I'm in your class. First period."

Frank dropped his spoon in his bowlful of milk. He wiped his mouth with the back of a hand and stood, picking up his tray, and left the table. He up-ended the contents of his tray into the trash unceremoniously, milk splashing all over the black plastic bag, and slammed the tray onto the rack and walked off. Gerard felt his heart sink. And suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore.

The rest of the school day didn't prove fruitful. He spent most of the time scribbling angrily in his notebook—dark drawings, and counting down the minutes until it would all be over.

Once he got home, he went straight to his room, shutting the door behind him. He threw himself onto his bed and buried his face in his sheets and let out a muffled yell. Then he heard Mikey come home. And he heard a second voice. They were giggling. He envied him. First day at school and he was already bringing a new friend over to their house.

He missed his old home. He missed his friends. He didn't belong here. He pulled out his notebook and began drawing. He thought back on the day and his mind fell on Frank. The asshole that had called him a fag on his first day of school. And then he was drawing him, black hair falling across his face, the scowl, his lip ring—a pretty accurate depiction of him, he thought. Then he scribbled over it angrily with a black marker when he realized he would have to face him again tomorrow and every day after that for the rest of the school year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. His first day was rough and Frank's an ass. I promise things will look up for him soon!


	3. Evil

****["But Why Would You Care?" - Knuckle Puck]

-

Gerard was sat out in front of the school, observing the people around him. He saw cliques gathered in groups spread sporadically across the grass—a football being tossed between two jocks, a cluster of girls in short shorts and high ponytails gathered in a tight circle, giggling. He saw Frank, clothed in black from head to toe. He had his hood up and his hands jammed into his pockets with earbuds sticking out from his ears, as he walked up the stairs and in past through the doors. He acted as if nobody else existed. And he didn't even notice him sat atop the short wall when he was coming up the stairs.

Someone knocked into Gerard, knocking his sketchbook from his lap onto the ground. He turned to see the culprit already sprinting across the grass, a tall boy with short-cropped blond hair, toned shoulders and a broad chest that puffed out proudly underneath his t-shirt that seemed to struggle to contain his muscles. He triumphantly was holding the football he had caught, readying it to toss to back over to his friend. Gerard sighed and knelt down to pick up his book as the school bell rang. He placed his hand over his chest. He felt the warmth of his skin through his shirt underneath his palm. He was wondering if he actually did exist then. Because nobody else seemed to think so.

At lunch, he quickly finished his food in the cafeteria and made his way back into the art room. He asked his teacher permission to borrow a pack of pastels for his homework. As he was rummaging through the supply closet, he heard the crash of a door, making him jump. Frank walked in. He tossed his backpack carelessly onto a table with a clatter, noisily pulled out a chair to take his seat, and kicked his legs up onto the table. He didn't look up at him. Gerard wondered if he even knew he was there. He didn't know how to react so he just froze.

"Are you just gonna sit there staring?" he asked suddenly, breaking the stale silence of the classroom.

Gerard stood from his spot, heat creeping up his cheeks. He quickly shoved a pack of pastels into his backpack and threw it over his back. He headed for the door.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

He turned to face him. "I thought you wanted to be left alone."

"Do you always just do what everyone wants you to do?"

This was strange, he thought. Frank never wanted him around. Why now? Or was he just messing with him to see how uncomfortable he could make him. Well, it was working. Frank patted the chair next to him expectantly as he smacked his gum. Gerard debated whether to make a run for it. But he decided it would only make things more awkward the next time he ran into him in the halls, so he reluctantly dragged his feet over to him and pulled a chair back, far from him, and sat. Frank watched with a smirk. "Good boy," he said. Gerard made to leave again when he felt his hand wrap around his arm. "Relax! Geez, I'm just joking."

"What do you want?" he asked, annoyed.

There was a long pause while Frank picked at his fingernails absently. "To chat," he said.

"What for?"

"Well, what do people 'just chat' for? To get to know each other? Because I'm fucking bored out of my mind and you're here already so why not," he said. Not very convincing, Gerard thought. "It's not like you've got any place better to be. It's lunch time and you're hiding away by yourself in the art room. That's gotta be the most pathetic thing anyone can do."

"You're here, aren't you?" Gerard said, suddenly feeling bold. He expected a shove or even a punch to the face but instead, he was met with a grin. A wide, satisfied grin as if that was the best thing he had ever heard. This guy is weird, he thought. He didn't know what to make of him. He was either a psychopath or a creep.

"You're an art freak too? Man, you're making it really hard for yourself. And easy for me." Frank grabbed ahold of the black sketchbook he had in his hand, whipping open the pages before Gerard could retort.

"Give it back!" he said, reaching for it, but Frank held it away from him as he flipped through the pages.

"Man, I would tease you, but I actually think some of this is pretty rad." Gerard stared at him in disbelief. "You're into some dark shit," he said as he came across a drawing of a vampire with red blood splashed across his face. "It's always the quiet ones." He paused when he came across a marker sketch of a scorpion, then he shut the book and handed it over to him. Gerard snatched it back from his hand and shoved it into his book bag, locking it away before he could take it again. "Some of them would look pretty sweet as tattoos. As soon as I'm eighteen, I'm getting one. Maybe I can use something of yours."

"What? Me?"

"Your drawings. I like the scorpion." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter if you're okay with it or not. I'm gonna get it tattooed. Right here on my neck." He jabbed an index finger onto the right side of his neck. "High up so I wouldn't be doomed with a nine-to-five job." He dropped his legs from the table and leaned in close to him. "What about you? What would you get tattooed?"

Gerard wouldn't get a tattoo. He was afraid of needles. But if he told Frank that, he probably would never hear the end of it. "I don't want tattoos," he said.

"You're a liar."

"No, I'm not—"

"All those drawings say otherwise. What, are you scared or something?"

Gerard dropped his gaze down to his hands. "I wouldn't know what to get."

"Just anything meaningful to you."

He started picking at the hem of his shirt. "Why is a scorpion meaningful to you?"

"Well, besides the fact that it'll look fucking sick, it's a reminder. I hate insects and arachnids. Anything with more than four legs freaks me out. So the fact that I'm getting it embedded into my skin forever is kind of like forcing me to face my fears every day when I see it. And they sting so it'll be like a warning to not fuck with me."

Gerard thought he already got that last part covered. Just the way he dressed and his scowl alone seemed to keep people away. Then suddenly, the bell rang, effectively ending their conversation. Frank picked up his bag and left without a word. "Asshole," Gerard muttered under his breath as soon as the door shut behind him. But he found himself feeling intrigued by his unusual encounter with the boy that had initially made him dread coming to school.

After lunch, his mind lingered on Frank as he was doodling scorpions on a page in his sketchbook. "Gerard," Mrs. Rodriguez's voice rang out from the front of the classroom. He looked up, eyes wide. "Could you answer the question for us?" He shifted in his seat, staring at the board, but he was only met with notes from the previous class. He had no idea what the question was. He shook his head slowly, side to side. She sighed and he heard giggles behind him. A couple of hands shot up around him. "Yes, Brian," she said as she moved on. Gerard slumped into his seat, willing the heat that creeped up his neck to be hidden underneath his jacket collar.

The bell rang, marking the end of the school day. Gerard walked out to the front of the school and found Frank sat on the stairs against the wall. He watched him wipe his nose with the back of a hand. He saw it then. There was blood. And he had a bruise too, on his left cheek. He had gotten into a fight.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked as he approached.

"Yeah. S'nothing," he muttered as he tilted his head back, pinching his nose bridge to stop the bleeding.

Gerard rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a sheet of tissue, handing it to him. Frank looked at him tentatively before he took it and muttered a quick  _thanks_.

"Aw, shit," Frank hissed suddenly, after glancing over his shoulder.

Gerard looked around and saw two people approaching them: a skinny guy with pink hair buzzed at the sides, wearing shorts, with one hand clad in a fingerless black glove. The other had black hair, long bangs coming over one of his eyes, with black gauges in his ears. "Who are they?" he asked.

"It's Bert and Jeph."

"Hey there, handsome!" Bert said with a grin as he sat down on the stairs next to Frank and swung an arm around his shoulders. Jeph leaned against the wall casually with his arms across his chest, trying his best to look as bored as possible.

"Fuck off!" Frank said, shoving at him.

But Bert latched a hand onto the back of his neck, keeping him in place, and leaned in close, his voice low, "Mess with me again, and I'm gonna give you another shiner to match the one you already have." He let go, and they both left, cackling. Gerard was peering over at Frank with sympathy on his face.

"Asshole," Frank muttered as he sniffed and wiped at his nose again to check if he finally stopped bleeding. "People are evil," he said, leaning forward, resting his arms against his legs. "Animals are the purest things on the planet. Just look at dogs."

Gerard was wondering what Frank thought of him. And what he thought of himself. "I don't think you're evil," he said. Frank turned to look at him in the eyes then, with an expression on his face that he couldn't figure out. He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. He didn't know why he said it. He suddenly regretted it and was about to retort when Frank got up without a word and made his way across the grass, leaving him alone on the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins. Not gonna spoil anything, but I'm really excited for Bert and Jeph's roles in this story!


	4. Wolves

["Today I Saw The Whole World" - Pierce The Veil]

-

Mr. Brigsby's drawl came over as a monotonous backdrop to the class and Gerard perked up when he heard the man's failed attempt at the pronunciation of his name—for the third day in row, "Uh, Jared. Jared Way." How? His name wasn't even that hard.

"It's  _Ger-ard_!" Frank burst out before Gerard could correct the poor man yet again. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath. A snicker spread amongst the students, drowning out his annoyed grumbling.

"Alright, settle down," Mr. Brigsby droned, almost completely unphased. Gerard had to suppress a grin as he peered over at Frank. He didn't acknowledge him. He was resting his head against his hand, looking bored.

During lunch, Gerard grabbed a sandwich from the kiosk and scanned the cafeteria. Seeing the rowdy sight before him, he decided he wanted to be somewhere quiet, so he headed for the art room. (No—he definitely wasn't looking for Frank.) As soon as he entered the classroom, he halted in his tracks. There was a small group of students busy working on various art projects. Most of them were painting. Lindsey was there, cutting up pieces of colored paper, laughing as she was talking to a girl with short black pigtails. All eyes fell on him in an instant and he saw Lindsey drop her gaze to the food in his hands. Gerard turned on his feet and left before she could speak, feeling the heat on his cheeks at the thought that Lindsey would think that he had come to the art room to seek solitary refuge to eat his lunch. He wasn't. He was—fine—he  _was_ looking for Frank. When he sat back down in the cafeteria, enough time had passed where he began regretting running away. He couldn't help that he was so shy. And he knew Lindsey wouldn't have judged. She was nice.

The rest of the day proved to be pretty uneventful, until he got to drama class. His favorite class by far was art, but he decided drama had to be a close second. Most of the students in his class were already tight-knit, having been involved together in their last production they had over the holiday season. Gerard couldn't offer much for conversation during break as they reminisced and tossed around inside jokes that he didn't understand. But he liked the exercises they did on stage. Even though he was an introvert at heart, something about the stage made his inhibitions disappear. Maybe it was because he was pretending to be somebody else and so he no longer felt like he was being judged for who he really was. He felt free when he was acting.

After school, he was walking across the school grounds on his way home when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and was surprised to see that it was Frank, in his usual attire of all-black everything, with the hood of his jacket pulled up. "Come on. Let's go," he said simply, with no further explanation.

Gerard stood planted for a second as Frank was already walking ahead of him. "Where are we going?" he asked as he finally moved his feet.

"You'll find out once we get there."

Gerard followed him, not wanting to miss the opportunity at friendship. He swallowed his shyness, feeling a skip in his heart at the unexpected invitation. He wouldn't repeat what he did during lunch. Frank jammed his earbuds in and Gerard could hear the loud guitar riffs and screaming even from where he was standing. Well, at least he didn't have to bother with trying to make conversation.

They've been walking for about twenty minutes when he started debating whether or not he should let Mikey know where he was.  _Be cool,_  he told himself. He could trust Frank.

They finally arrived at the bottom of a hill. Frank removed his earbuds then. "It's here," he announced, and they started their uphill trek. They ended up at a patch of dirt with a picnic table. Gerard stood on the edge of the hill and looked out at the vista. The view wasn't too bad. He could see the whole town from there.

Frank sat atop the table and began rummaging through his backpack, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Gerard had watched his mother smoke all the time. He surprisingly never once thought to try it himself. Everyone said it was bad for you and it was a pain to quit once addicted, so he was never fully convinced. But now as he watched Frank, the smoke coiling around him in ribbons, he suddenly found it alluring.

Noticing his gaze, Frank held out his half-smoked cigarette, "Wanna try?" Gerard hesitated for a second, then took it before he changed his mind. He held it delicately between his index and middle finger, as he'd seen everyone else do. The smoke emanating already made his eyes water. He quickly placed it between his lips and sucked. Then he started coughing, expelling the smoke from his mouth in sickened breaths. Frank laughed as he took the cigarette from him.

"How do you smoke that thing?" Gerard said, voice hoarse. Frank shrugged and took a drag, showing off. He sucked in the smoke and inhaled it deep into his lungs before expelling it out into the air in a thick cloud.

"You do it enough times, you get used to it."

"Where did you get it?"

"I stole it off of Bert." Of course he did.

"So what's the deal with you guys?" Gerard asked after a moment.

"He's just an asshole. He's only a year older than me and he acts like he's tough shit," Frank said. Gerard thought there had to have been more to it than that—bad blood. Otherwise, why would they have gotten into a fist fight? Unless Bert really was that much of an ass to just beat up a kid he barely knew, randomly. Although, Gerard had to admit, Frank proved that he could sometimes be the type of person that would've had it coming, case in point: his first day of school.

"How old are you?" Gerard asked.

"Sixteen," Frank said, taking another drag.

"Me too."

"Hey, then do you know how to drive?" Frank was asking suddenly, eyes widening ever so slightly with interest.

"Well, yeah, I guess... I was in the middle of my lessons in Illinois before I moved." Gerard withheld the truth that all he did was drive around his neighborhood a couple times at 25 miles an hour, and that was months ago. He probably forgot everything by now. But Frank didn't need to know that.

"Still, you know more than I do," Frank said, and Gerard mentally cursed himself for lying. "Why'd you move anyway? Did you do something bad? Did you kill someone?" he added the last bit with a smirk.

Gerard hesitated. "Why would you assume that it's something bad?" he asked quietly.

"I dunno." Frank shrugged, "Seems pretty random, moving out here in March."

"My mom switched jobs." It was the automatic lie he would tell any time someone asked. And Frank had already heard that story before in class.

"What does she do?"

"She's a... waitress." He inwardly grimaced, knowing the moment he finished his sentence that Frank would give him shit for it.

"So she  _had_ to move out of state to get another job as a waitress?" Gerard gave him a look and Frank raised his hands in defeat. "I get it. You probably went through some shit." He dropped the topic. Gerard thought about the truth, how he had to move because he got molested; not by some any random creep, but by his own mother's boyfriend. He unwillingly recalled the knotting shock and disgust in his stomach the moment he felt the man's hand come over his groin, and he could already taste the bile at the back of his throat.

"You ever feel like screaming?" Frank suddenly asked, pulling Gerard from his thoughts, and making his eyes widen. He thought for a split second that he had read his mind. "Just as loud as you can? I do that here sometimes. You should try it." Gerard never fully coped with the whole ordeal. It all turned numb after the initial shock so he just chose to ignore it up until now.

"Come on," Frank urged.

Gerard leaned forward in his seat, not wanting to disappoint him, and shouted a short  _Ahh!_ his voice breaking towards the end.

"That was pathetic! No, a real scream, like this." Frank stood on the bench and let out a long, gravelly scream that made the hair on Gerard's arms stand up, just like the sounds he heard leaking from his earbuds earlier. It carried across the hills and he even heard a faint echo. Frank sat back down with a sideways smile, looking at him expectantly.

Gerard stood slowly and balled his hands into fists. His heart started to beat faster as he forced himself to face the facts. He thought about Harvey, the man who'd slithered his way into his family's lives only to abuse their trust. He thought about the fear he instilled in him; how, from this point on, he would always feel some sort of apprehension about any man his mother would start dating. He realized now just how much damage Harvey had managed to do to him and he wished he could somehow seek revenge.

He would do that now. He would avenge himself.

He took a deep breath and screamed. He screamed the way he wished he would have when it happened, in the living room, the place where they'd laughed spending time together after dinner like an actual family. He screamed loud and long until he obliterated the memory of him from his mind, undoing the damage, undoing the trauma. He stopped when he started to cough. And he heard the echo, just for a second, loud and clear, as it ricocheted off the hills. When he looked over at Frank, his mouth agape and eyes wide, he knew he had done it. His heart was pounding, he was out of breath, and his throat was sore, but he had done it.

"Yes!" Frank yelped as he jumped up once again and swung his arm around his shoulders. It surprised Gerard, this sudden contact from Frank. And suddenly, he wanted to impress him all the time, be liked by him. They took turns howling like wolves and Gerard found himself smiling. It felt cathartic, the adrenaline pumping in his veins. He had never done anything like this before. He felt like a rebel. But most of all, he felt free. Nobody was around but Frank to witness this but that's all that mattered.

By the time they settled down, the sun was setting. They gazed out contently at the town bathed in golden hour. Gerard didn't know where the time had gone. But it also meant that it was getting late, not that his mom would notice anyway. He did receive a text from Mikey though, asking where he was.  _I'm hanging out with a friend,_  Gerard replied. That's when it dawned on him. Frank was his first friend he made in this town. 

"Hey, you hungry?" Frank asked. Gerard was starving.

They ended up at a diner.

Frank finally shared his music with him, handing him an earbud across the table. Black Flag. Gerard had given them a listen once or twice. He was more of a Ramones guy himself. Gerard doodled in his sketchbook while they waited for their food. They didn't talk much throughout dinner. They didn't need to.

Frank was pushing a wedge of pancake through some syrup when the bill arrived. Gerard searched in his pockets for some cash.

"Oh, shit. I forgot my wallet," Frank said, eyeing Gerard with a small frown. And Gerard reached into his pockets again and pushed several wadded bills onto the table.

"Later," Frank called out as they parted ways in the parking lot.

By the time Gerard got home, it was completely dark out. He entered his house with a clatter, grinning. "Hey, where'd you go?" Mikey emerged from his room in his pajamas, a hand coming up to scratch his dirty blond mop.

"I was hanging out with Frank."

Gerard told Mikey all about him, about how their weird friendship formed; how it went from Frank throwing insults at him to them ending up having pancakes together at a diner.

And later that evening when Gerard lay in bed, for the first time since he'd moved, he was looking forward to school.


	5. Drive

["The Downfall Of Us All" - A Day To Remember]  ** _Let's go._**

-

During lunch, Gerard sat alone at a table with a tray of unappetizing food: dry chicken nuggets, a limp salad, and stale fries. He was about to take a bite when someone took a seat next to him. "Let's get out of here," Frank said as he nudged him on the arm, and was already standing to leave. Gerard followed quickly, abandoning his tray of food on the table.

He tried to keep up with Frank walking ahead of him in the halls. They pushed through the door out the back of the school and were now crossing through the parking lot. "I thought only seniors were allowed to leave campus for lunch?" Gerard said as he glanced around for the security guard.

"Nobody ever checks anyway," Frank muttered as he pulled up his hood and shoved his hands into his pockets. They walked a couple blocks to arrive at a fast food restaurant. Now Gerard was feasting on piping hot chicken strips. Definitely an improvement from the cafeteria food.

"That all you're gonna eat?" Gerard inquired, looking at Frank's small bag of fries. Frank shrugged. No wonder he was so small. He was skinny. Gerard had to have at least three inches on him in height. He supposed that's how Frank is always able to sneak around all the time, showing up at random times to invite him out to someplace new. He enjoyed their spontaneous outings. Then it occurred to him that he never saw him hanging out with anyone else. He wondered if he had any friends.

"So, have you lived here your whole life?" he discreetly asked, hoping to find an answer.

"Yeah, pretty much," he said, nibbling on a fry. "I used to go to Forest Glen but got expelled. So now I have to travel to this hellhole every morning for an extra fifteen minutes. Fucking sucks," he said.

"Why? What'd you do?"

"I used to sell pot. Made a killing off of it too. All cash. I almost got sent to juvie. I guess I got lucky. But I can't start it up again because it's on my record now."

Gerard stared. He was friends with a drug dealer. An almost-criminal. Suddenly he was feeling impressed.

"Hey. Lemme get your number," Frank said. Gerard's heart did a leap at the simple request. He didn't know why. He quickly took the phone he extended and entered his number. Frank pocketed it with a half-smile. And they headed back to school.

After the final bell rang, Gerard waited at the front of the school hoping to catch Frank. He watched a slew of students pouring out from the front doors, trickling down the stairs and dividing into different directions. He glanced at his phone and grimaced, realizing that he never got Frank's number. He secretly hoped he would show up so they could hang out again. Maybe grab a bite at the diner. Then he saw Bert and Jeph emerge from the doors snickering to each other and he automatically felt the need to hide. Instead, he made his way across the grass to go home, giving up on waiting for Frank.

That night, he was laid on his bed sketching when he got a text that interrupted his music. Unknown number.

_Hey, can you come and get me?_

Gerard made to ask who it was, even though he had a pretty good idea.

_It's Frank._

Gerard stared at the brightly lit screen, waiting for an explanation. But, as usual, there was none.  _Why what happened?_ he asked.

What seemed like forever later, Frank responded. It was an address. Gerard felt panicked. Frank must be in trouble. Maybe it was Bert and Jeph. Maybe he got beat up again and needed medical attention. Or maybe he was kidnapped. Wait, no. That didn't make sense. How would he know the address if he was kidnapped? He was getting ahead of himself. He searched the address on his phone to find out it was only one and a half miles away.

He quickly changed out of his pajamas and snuck out of his room. As he crept down the hall, he could hear a video playing in Mikey's room and saw that the light in his mom's room was already turned off. He headed for the back door. It was further away from the bedrooms than the front door and it would be quieter. He grabbed his keys and shut the door behind him, locking it. He went through the backyard gate and began jogging over to the mysterious address. His heart was pounding hard in his chest as his mind raced with the infinite possibilities of what could've possibly happened to Frank, or maybe it was because of the jog? Twenty minutes later he arrived at the address, completely out of breath. It was a two-story house full of teenagers, the music rumbling as the yard emitted with raucous laughter and hoots. A house party.

"What the—"

"Gerard!" Frank called out from the second story window with a wave.

"Frank—"

Frank disappeared into the house before he could talk to him. After a moment, he emerged from the front door and was dragging him inside, "What took you so long?"

"I came over as fast as I—wait, I thought you were in trouble?"

"Nope."

"I thought you needed me to come get you—"

"Yeah, but I need to do something first."

They squeezed past drunken, rowdy teenagers, several of whom he recognized from his classes. An intense game of beer pong was happening on the kitchen table, the crowd suddenly erupting with a cheer as a player had made a goal into the last remaining red plastic cup. There was a heavy makeout session between two girls in skirts with a crowd of boys practically drooling around them. Gerard narrowly side-stepped a boy as he pushed past the crowd to vomit into a planter. They finally came to the living room where he was hit with the heady stench of weed. The room was completed clouded up. And in the midst of the scene were Bert and Jeph. Gerard squeaked as he halted.

"Hey, watch this," Frank said, leaving him by the hall to stride over casually into the room  _towards_ Bert.

"What are you—" Gerard felt his stomach clench.

Bert was completely high, slumped over on a bean bag chair, muttering something about how potato chips were God's gift to mankind. Nobody seemed to notice Frank as he knelt beside him, reaching towards one of his pockets where his keychain was halfway hanging. Then he looped a finger through the chain, got up, turned, and walked back. " _Go, go, go_!" he hissed, urging Gerard who was stood gaping at what he'd just witnessed.

"Hey, you got a bottle opener?" Jeph asked Bert with half-lidded eyes, stumbling a bit as he made his way over to him. It was clear that the last thing he needed was another beer.

"Just open it, man," Bert said, waving at him impatiently.

"Iss not a twist cap," Jeph slurred.

"Agh," Bert groaned as he adjusted himself to pat at his pockets for his keys. It took a moment for him to realize it was missing. His eyes darted around the room, and his gaze fell on Frank in the hall looking conspicuous and they locked eyes, "Hey!"

"Go! Go!" Frank was yelling. They made a run for it, pushing past people in the halls, earning them several exclaims of complaint. "It's that one there!" He pointed out a black Camry and tossed the keys to Gerard and headed for the passenger's seat. Gerard ran to the other side, frantically pressing the clicker repeatedly to unlock the car. They jumped inside and he jammed the key into the ignition. Then, dread washed over him as he was met with a serious predicament.

"I- I don't know how to drive!"

"What?! I thought you said you did!"

"I-I only drove around my neighborhood a couple ti-"

"Just go!" Frank said as he pulled the ignition. They pitched forward as Gerard slammed the gas. They ran over a curb, skidding across the grass, sending a spray of dirt up behind them as they swerved across the asphalt down the street.

Frank rolled down the window, stuck half his body out, and whipped out two middle fingers behind them, "Fuck you, assholes!" Gerard glanced at the rear view mirror and saw the retreating forms of Bert and Jeph standing in the middle of the road yelling profanities in their direction, the roar of the engine drowning out their words. The other party-goers were cheering them on, too drunk to care who they were, just happy about the commotion. Frank let out a whoop of victory before slumping into his seat.

They made it past several blocks without serious injury, so far. This was so illegal, Gerard thought. If the police caught him for driving without a license and speeding he would be in so much trouble. Or worse, if his mom found out. Frank laughed. He was laughing so hard until there were tears in his eyes. "You fucking saint!" he said as he leaned over and pressed a wet kiss onto Gerard's temple suddenly.

Gerard slammed the brakes and the car pitched forward, sending Frank onto the dash with a small thud. But he didn't seem to mind. He only laughed more, satisfied with getting away from the two boys now that they were a couple miles from them.

It took a few moments for Gerard to catch his breath and for his hands to steady on the steering wheel before he uttered his next words, "What the fuck, Frank!"

Frank looked at him, grinning, mildly impressed at his cursing. "What? That was fucking awesome!"

"We could've died!"

"But we didn't. It was totally worth it! You're being dramatic," Frank said, leaning back against the seat with his hands behind his head.

"I'm serious! We just  _stole_ a car!"

Frank grinned as he watched him getting all flustered. He lowered his seat and crossed his legs on top of the dash. "You're cute when you're angry."

Gerard stared with wide eyes, feeling his cheeks going pink. "Shut up," he muttered, turning away from him, hoping he hadn't noticed him blushing.

"Relax! You're gonna get an aneurysm. Look, on the bright side, you know how to drive now! We can go anywhere we want."

He gave him a look. "I don't have a license, Frank."

"So?"

Gerard gave up and thumped his forehead against the steering wheel. "Why, Frank? Why would you do this?"

"I wanted to get back at that son of a bitch. He got what he deserves," he said with a snicker.

It went silent between them for a while. Gerard still had the steering wheel in his grip and his forehead resting against it when he suddenly felt his lips tugging into a grin.  _We just stole a car_ , he thought. Then a chuckle emitted from his throat. And then his shoulders were shaking as he started giggling. Frank looked over at him with a concerned expression. Although this was one of the stupidest things Gerard had ever been a part of, he had to admit it was fun. In fact, it was probably the most fun he's ever had! He erupted into laughter. And soon enough, Frank was joining in. They were cracking up like a couple of lunatics at everything that just happened. Oh God, he hoped he wasn't high. They continued laughing blissfully, eyes shutting almost to a close, tears threatening to break free, stomaches aching, cheeks hurting. Everything was suddenly fucking hilarious.

Until they saw the red and blue lights flashing behind them.

-

Everyone had cleared out of the house by the time the police car rolled into the driveway. Now it was just Bert, Frank, Gerard, and the police officer.

"I just borrowed it! It's back safe and sound!" Frank exclaimed. They collectively looked at the muddied state of the car. "It's just a little dirty..." he added.

"I'd like to press charges," Bert said, stepping in. The officer discreetly rolled her eyes as she jotted down notes.

Frank couldn't believe this asshole. Pressing charges? Would that mean he was going to jail? But he was only 16. And what about Gerard? Frank glanced over at him. He was silent the whole time, brows furrowed with worry, as he was wringing his hands with nervousness. He was only a reluctant accomplice in this whole messed up scheme. Frank couldn't get him in trouble too for his stupid idea. There had to be a way out of this. He racked his brain for an answer, then suddenly, an idea occurred to him.

"Wait, you okay Bert? Your eyes look a little fuzzy. You look a little hi-"

"On second thought!" Bert interrupted, "I won't be pressing charges." He shot Frank a dirty look and the cop raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I'm glad  _that's_ settled. I'm letting you off the hook this time so go home without another word, all of you," she said with a sigh.

Gerard exhaled audibly. Bert wrapped his hand around Frank's neck, squeezing hard as he forced a smile. Frank tensed under his grip as he also forced a smile. "Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

"Except for you two," she said, indicating to Frank and Gerard. "It is past curfew so I will be calling your parents," she said, and their faces fell.


End file.
